


Bottled Up

by apy02



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Relationship Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18355742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apy02/pseuds/apy02
Summary: Medic, despite openly loving Heavy, has grown to hate his past with him. The guilt puts a strain on their relationship. So, now he has to admit his festering doubts and insecurities.





	Bottled Up

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i wrote this mid 2018 and i wanted to share. might post my other sappy works of this ship if there’s interest. thank you for reading!  
> i know i barely touched the surface of their potential issues in this fic, but i meant it as a short one-off anyway.  
> also sorry for the pun title i am just like this

  Medic pulled away from the kiss hesitantly, feeling disapproval as his partner attempted to continue. It took him a second to fully realize that it had concluded so quickly. Previously-closed eyes slowly opened to look at the larger man grasping onto his waist. Both pairs of the men met each other in a glare; one being subtly confused, the other trying to hide the emotion behind his eyes.

  “Heavy. Let me go,” he requested lightly as his slightly saddened gaze turned to the floor. Not a crack in his voice to be heard, but his refusal of eye-contact told Heavy he was upset about something.

 

  Heavy left a hand were it held onto him, but put one up to the Medic’s face. He slowly began stroking his thumb over the cheek.

  “...Did... Did Heavy do something wrong?” he asked, dumbfounded at the sudden turnaround of the situation. When their lips first met minutes ago, he could feel the passion Medic had for him. He could tell that his doctor had wanted that kiss. 

  “Did you hear me? Let go,” he commanded more sternly this time. 

  “Sorry, sorry.” Heavy abided by his wish in the hope that this would prevent him from becoming more frustrated, arms retreating to his sides. “Is Doktor okay? Hurt?” Heavy checked, continuing to look towards Medic with concern and bafflement.  

  Medic let his head return back up to Heavy’s face. His eyes and brows were no longer seemingly conscience-stricken, just giving his neutral appearance of general disdain. “It’s fine, Heavy.”

  “Does not seem fine.”

   “Well, I am!” he snapped at man.

  Heavy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and offense at his tone. Realizing the shock he slapped on Heavy’s face with that remark, he let out a sigh to relieve some of the building tension in the room.

 

  “I just... I need a drink,” Medic added as he walked around Heavy, heading for the infirmary’s exit doors.

  “Where is Doktor going?” Heavy inquired with increased frustration in his voice. 

  “I’ll be back.”

  Heavy struggled for a moment to decide what he should say in protest. Yet he was left before he could say anything more, the doctor almost slamming the doors behind him as he went. Medic’s mood had changed so much in a short time towards him, signaling something was definitely wrong. Heavy’s past experience with the man affirmed that his emotions could be rather fickle in nature, but he kept himself put together as well as he could; especially around Heavy, in attempt to not worry him. Despite how he could occasionally (or rather, more than occasionally) become frustrated with his partner, this was something entirely different. Medic acted out because something was bothering him. They both could tell there was something wrong, even if Heavy didn’t know what exactly what the problem was. Yet. 

  He took himself to sit on Medic’s operating table, close to where they had been standing together before he left to get a drink. Being alone on that table let memories resurface of how he used to sit there during their frequent late-night talks. A time when they were only just getting to know each other. Before the two were so closely involved with each other that they would practically sit as close together as they could if alone in a room. Medic was not the type to cling towards a person, or any person, that was obvious to everyone. But he definitely enjoyed Heavy’s company more than most of what he deals with on the team. At least, that’s what Heavy believed to be true. His partner storming out began to plant subtle doubt into his mind.

  Minutes disguised as hours passed before Medic returned with his spoils; six bottles of Demoman’s cheap, 9% beer. He head for his desk, beginning to scramble with his hands for a bottle opener.

  “Doktor?” Heavy called out, hoping for a response. But Medic wouldn’t give him one. Instead, he pulled out a bottle opener he fished out of the bottom cabinet and went at opening one of the bottles with vigor.

  “Medic?” he asked for again.

 Still no acknowledgement as the top popped off suddenly. 

  “Please. No drinking.”

  Heavy’s request made him pause as he looked down the first bottle, seemingly deciding if he should or not, as his hand lowered it a little.

  “Why not?” his voice shattered the silence as he kept eye contact with his beer.

  “Hate it when you are drunk.”

  “I just need something to take the edge off. I’m not getting drunk.”

  “Always drink until sick... Those do it. We both know that.”

  Despite the broken English getting in the way, Medic understood exactly what he meant. He knew it was true, too. He had the urge to down all six. While he was nowhere near a lightweight, it would be enough to leave anyone intoxicated, if not past the stage of alcohol poisioning later on.

  “Only one,” he said solemnly as he took a sip. “Hör auf, dir Sogen zu Machen...” he mumbled to himself as he continued to stand over his desk.

  Heavy sighed as he watch him take the first swig. At least one wouldn’t do much harm to him. The bottle only looked to be about a standard size 300-some millilitres, yet it still was enough to worry Heavy. Medic already having a difficult time controlling himself, and he didn’t need any help to worsen it. It was absolutely miserable for Heavy to watch him loose control of himself to the point of not being able to keep his usual composure. How he could no longer be a way that seemed to come naturally for him, a reservanice he prides himself in. Losing that always made it seem as if he lost a bit of himself in all the drinking. It would be a wild card of an event each time he was drunk, anyway. His mood could range from obscenely mad to manically happy. In combination with his lack of care for harm or death to himself and others,  it was a dangerous combination to be intensified with alcohol. Heavy had seen this drunk for himself a handful of times by now. It was one of the few things he couldn’t stand for Medic to do. 

  “Doktor. Heavy need to know what is problem,” he stated, attempting to sound more stern.

  Finishing another taste, he let the bottle leave his mouth as his now opened eyes looked down at his desk. “Oh, I don’t know...” he trailed off.

  “You don’t know?” Heavy asked with skepticism in his voice. “Seems something’s on mind. Do not hide these things.”

  Medic took a bit more of his drink in before setting it down on the table with an unintentionally loud clank. His hand reached for his graying hair, gripping his hair back. “I don‘t know, I just...I can’t do this.”

  “Do what, Medic?” As patient as he could be, this cryptic language Medic insisted on speaking was beginning to wear him thin. He could barely speak English enough to be understood, let alone rephrase his questions to fit his most recent responses. 

  “I can’t... Mein Gott, there’s no way to say this delicately,” he began, taking another swig down to stall for time. 

  “Heavy can take it.” Dusty brown eyes sat on the doctor as the man they belonged to tried to stay calm. Medic removed his lips from his drink, but didn’t say a word, agitating Heavy further. “What is causing all the trouble?” he demanded curtly to know. 

  The pause continued as the other searched for words. “... I can’t have this relationship with you,” he answered. 

  As he took a long, last swig of the bottle, Heavy could only look at him in shock. His anger instantly dissipated from his face, turning into an aghast expression.

  “...What?” he managed to spout out in reply. 

  “Bitte,” he began directionlessly, “You heard me.”

  Heavy’s heart continued to sink down into his chest at these words, feeling deeper than it had in a long time. “But... But why? What did Heavy do wrong?”

  Medic took a deep sigh. He could tell the Heavy was hurting already, not even having to look at his face to know. Which he wouldn’t dare to do, eyes becoming glued to the ground.

  “Gottverdammt, mein Ivan... You did nothing, but we should have never began this in the first place,” he started as he opened a second beer, even though he promised he wouldn’t. “It’s all so wrong.”

  “Wrong, why? Because we are men?”

  “... That’s not the problem, you know that. You know I couldn’t care less about that,” he began to explain as he let himself drink to rid his anxieties. The question threw him a bit off guard, knowing Heavy had believed he was strictly heretrosexual until he began developing feelings and fantasies for the Medic. He had thought he loved several woman in his youth he had relationships with back in Russia, despite never feeling content with any of them. Of course, he would believe she was just not the right one for him, each time this occurred. The fact of them being women creating these problems didn’t seem like an option for himself. But the Medic made him feel completely different. He made Heavy feel what he believed what real, mutual love was like. Sometimes he’d admit that he continued to find it hard to fathom that he preferred the Medic over any woman he had in the past. Unlike Heavy, Medic knew he felt this way long before they had met. He was able to come to terms with it and deal with it on his own. His heart would ache whenever he felt the Heavy may been doubting the reasonableness of own sexuality again, but he decided to gloss over it for the time being. 

  “You just... deserve better,” Medic continued, sounding agitated after a break of silence the confrontation endured. 

  “But... Heavy does not want ‘better’. Doktor has flaw, yes—so does Heavy. This is just fact. But Heavy can still love-”

  “Ivan!” he blurted out in frustration.  “How are you just looking over everything I’d done to you? I’ve used your body for my own experiments, and discarded you, like you were nothing, countless times. And who knows how you’ll suffer from it, exactly!” Medic was practically screamed at him, bewildered at how he seemed to not feel mistreated.

  “I don’t understand, and it’s just... How could you love me? After I used you for my own selfish experiments? I’ve put you under the knife countless times before— and for what? To further my own knowledge, at the risk of your safety? How is that okay with you!?”

  His intent wasn’t for his partner to be convinced to leave him, but his ever-building guilt of the awful things he’d done to him weighed on his consceince so much they were seemingly unjustifiable. He’d never felt so much remorse for something he had done to a person in the past, let alone empathetic feelings to this extreme for anybody else. When Heavy didn’t feel like his actions were not as despicable as Medic felt they were, he didn’t know how to feel.

  He scurried to open another beer against his word, beginning taking a large drink of it once it was opened.

  Heavy’s eyes widened as left the table he sat on. Medic lowered the bottle and looked into the eyes of the Russian standing in front of him. There were no tears seeping from his eyes, yet it looked as if he was about to sob. A hand of Heavy’s grabbed onto the one holding the beer, almost as if he was trying to keep the bottle away from his mouth forcibly. 

  “Heavy not good with English words. Even hard to understand German ones Doktor say sometimes. But hope you understand, am willing to forget past if someone changes,” he tried to convince with his hand slowly making it on top of Medic’s. “You have, I think.” His voice was not nearly as strong as it usually was; it sounded like he was about to break down at any moment. Yet he didn’t. He just let his solum eyes gaze into Medic’s.

  “If Doktor no longer loves Heavy, will be okay. But that does not look to be true, yes...?”

  Medic pulled his hand away from Heavy’s to set his now near-empty beer down. He brought his hand back, along with the other, to rest in the larger man’s palms. “I just don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

  “You are not.”

  “I cannot make up for all the awful shit I’ve done. That should hurt a little.”

  Heavy left his arms drop slowly to rest, Medic’s hands still sitting inside his own. He moved closer, trying to reassure him that trust for Medic was present.

  “Oh, Doktor makes up in different ways, know that. Way you hold and kiss Heavy are more than a word. Can forgive, with new and good actions.”

  “But I-“

  “Please. Listen,” he interrupted. “Heavy’s having time of life, being with Doktor. Only thing around here to bother with living and fighting for. Rest of job and people here do not matter much. Am glad you are here, because... I love you.”

  Those three words, despite hearing them several times before, made the German’s heart race. As if they have accquired a new meaning. He let out a strong exhale of relief before removing his hands from Heavy’s to rest.

  “...I do too,” he said sheepishly.

  “Love?”

  “Ja. I do.”

  Heavy let a small grin appear on his face. “It’s a promise: I love you,” he murmured as he put his forehead up against Medic’s, with Medic suprisingly following his lead. 

  They stayed quiet until Medic whispered to himself within a sigh. “Oh, meine Heavy, Ich liebe dich...”

  “Hm?” Heavy briefly inquired.

  “Oh, ah- I, um... I love you,” he admitted, louder for him to hear this time.

  Heavy was about to smile wider, but wasn’t offered the chance before Medic grabbed his chin. He began kissing him passionately once more. Heavy participated for a few minutes until being the one to break away this time.

  “Heavy thought you did not want kiss?” he teased.

  With a little grin appearing on his face, Medic opened his eyes to look at his love, only the pair were much kinder this time. “Oh, shut up, mein dummkopfmann!” he laughed, lightly pushing his partner as he felt his face flush.

**Author's Note:**

> edit 1: fixed formatting. i’m on mobile i’m sorry for my sins


End file.
